


New Rule

by Bexless



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M, Podfic Available
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-30
Updated: 2011-07-30
Packaged: 2017-10-21 23:40:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bexless/pseuds/Bexless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pitch-black basement sex for Algernon Mouse :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Rule

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Wax!
> 
> Podfic (with bonus picspam!) by Shiningartifact [here](http://shiningartifact.livejournal.com/11910.html).

So the rule is, if someone gets lucky and somehow convinces someone else to have sex with them in an actual bed in an actual house, they have to take the rest of the band with them.

Not for the sex part, obviously. Well, not usually for the sex part, although there was that one time in Vegas when Mikey and Ray both crashed with this chick and both came back the next day with hickies. And exhaustion. And sex hair.

Stayed up all night talking Gerard’s _ass_.

Anyway, the point is that Mikey has worked his magic once again, and is upstairs getting laid by this vaguely scary girl with more fucking metal in her face than Optimus Prime. Over-pierced or not, the girl – Louise? Lucy? Lara-something – has a _house_ , a real house with a real shower that she let them all use, and a real guest room with a real bed that Toro and Otter immediately claimed as their own ‘because we’re tall,’ _whatever_ , which left Frank and Gerard to sleep on the fold-out bed in the basement.

Gerard still doesn’t understand why they couldn’t have slept in the living room. The living room had a couch and comfy-looking chairs and even a floor which Gerard would gladly have taken after seriously nine hundred years straight sleeping in the fucking van, but apparently there’s some situation with the alarm system and an over-achieving motion sensor, so here they are, in the pitch-black boiling hot basement, on a lumpy mattress that still feels like heaven to Gerard’s spine, which he swears is like one more van night away from permanently fusing into a sitting position.

He stretches a little and immediately gets pinched in the side by Frank. “Ow! What the fuck?”

Frank is jammed in between Gerard and the wall. He made Gerard check the entire basement for spiders before they turned off the crazy-bright fluorescent strip light, but he’s still wrapped himself up in the blankets like a burrito, jamming the edges under his body until he’s fucking airtight. “If you stretch you’ll pull the blankets out,” he says, muffled because his face is pressed under Gerard’s chin. “And then the spiders will get in, and then I’ll have to kill you.”

“If you kill me there’ll be nobody to rescue you from the spiders,” Gerard points out, trying to wriggle a hand up to scratch his chin where Frank’s hair is tickling it. Frank doesn’t like that, though; he mashes their chests together so there’s no room for Gerard’s hand. Gerard sighs and rubs his chin on the top of Frank’s head instead.

“I’m too hot,” Frank says, pulling his face out and gasping somewhere near Gerard’s cheek. “Fuck. It’s so fucking hot.”

“It’s the boiler,” Gerard tells him. That’s been his answer for everything, so far – what’s that weird noise, did you hear that clanking sound, what the fuck is that thing by the window that looks like a murderer/giant spider/giant, murderous spider. It’s seriously so dark Gerard couldn’t even see his hand if he was allowed to wave it in front of his face, or if he opened his eyes, which he is _not_ doing, because so long as his eyes are closed, that’s why he can’t see anything. “I’m scared of the dark,” he says to Frank.

Frank says, “I know.”

“I wish we could have slept in the living room.”

“You hate sleeping in the living room.” Frank makes a pfft-noise and his breath hits Gerard sharply in the eye. “You hate waking up with strangers around.”

Gerard rolls his eyes at nothing and blinks when Frank makes the pfft-noise again. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m trying to stop my face melting, it’s like a million degrees in here.” Frank starts wriggling around crazily under the blankets. “Fuck, fuck. Fuck, seriously, Gerard, I’m going to fucking boil to death here, I can’t even take it.”

Frank’s so weird about heat. He can play a whole show wearing two hoodies under the lights and flail around like a crazy person until he’s so wet with sweat his cheek slides against Gerard’s like oil on water, but if Ray tries to put the heater on in the van or the sun comes out from behind a cloud he immediately starts gasping and moaning and opening windows and taking off his shirt.

“What are you doing now?” Gerard asks when some pointy part of Frank digs into Gerard’s ribs for the ninth time.

“Taking off my shirt.” Oh, well, of course. “It’s too fucking hot.”

“That’s because you won’t let any part of yourself outside the blankets.”

“No, it’s because you’re clinging to me like a big fucking scared-of-the-dark wuss and you’re the hottest person _ever_.”

“Thanks,” Gerard grins into the dark and Frank snorts, somehow managing to biff Gerard’s chin with what Gerard thinks is his shoulder, and scrape his toes down Gerard’s shin at the same time. “Okay, fuck, Frankie, let’s just take the fucking blankets off while you-”

“ _No_ ,” Frank says forcefully, and then there’s a sudden mad flurry of contortion against Gerard’s belly and thighs, and then a soft thump next to Gerard’s head which is Frank’s clothes hitting the floor, and Frank relaxes again with a sigh. “That’s better.”

“Are you done?” Gerard says. Frank shifts around and Gerard’s hand brushes his hip. Gerard blinks his eyes wide open in the black. “And are you _naked_?”

“What, you think I’m getting out of bed to find my PJs?” Frank flops around, trying to find a cooler bit of blanket or something, Gerard doesn’t know, and then he hisses and pulls away slightly. “Fuck, are you wearing your fucking bat belt?”

Gerard can’t even remember. He shoves his hand down to his waist, and feels the sharp edge of his belt-buckle dig into his thumb. “Yeah.”

“Get rid of that shit,” Frank says grumpily. “It’s taking all the fucking skin off my hip.”

“If you weren’t _naked_ it wouldn’t be a _problem_ ,” Gerard says, but he lifts his hips and starts working the belt out of the loops on his jeans. It really is fucking hot, actually. Maybe he should take off his hoodie.

“Take off your hoodie,” Frank says, because of how he reads minds now. “It’s too hot.”

“I don’t see how me wearing a hoodie makes you too hot,” Gerard says, but once he’s let his belt slither to the ground with a thump, he yanks his hoodie off too. It’s almost impossible because of the way Frank clings to the blankets, and Gerard ends up losing his shirt too. “Fuck. Frank, can you give me like an inch so I can-”

“No.” Frank clamps the blankets down around their ears. “One night shirtless won’t kill you, okay.”

Gerard stares at the ceiling, or where the ceiling would be if he could see it. The blanket is scratchier than he thought, rough against his collarbone and shoulders, and Frank is pressed sticky up against his arm.

“You smell better without it, anyway,” Frank says suddenly, sticking his face into Gerard’s neck and sniffing loudly. “Although you’d smell better if you’d washed your hair. What the fuck, Gee, seriously.”

“Fuck you, Frank, you’re not exactly Freshmint McSmellsgood yourself after two weeks in the van,” Gerard says, even though Frank actually does smell pretty good most of the time, the asshole. Frank ragging on him about hygiene isn’t new, Frank’s a fucking clean freak, but Gerard _has_ fucking _showered_ today, and so what if he hasn’t washed his fucking hair, hair doesn’t even really get dirty, what the fuck ever.

“I washed _my_ hair,” Frank says smugly. “My hair smells awesome.”

“Jesus, can you let it go?”

“Excuse me if I’d rather smell you than a dirty T-shirt, fuck,” Frank says, and they both lie there in silence for a few minutes, Gerard concentrating on Frank’s quick, even breaths so he won’t have to hear the boiler-murderer plotting their demise.

Then Frank says, “Your fucking jeans stink too, I can smell them from here,” and Gerard says, “Oh, for fuck’s _sake_ ,” and lifts his hips again.

Frank waits until Gerard’s got his fly unbuttoned, then his head disappears from Gerard’s shoulder and winds up pressed against his chest as his hands latch on to Gerard’s waistband and give a sharp, strong tug.

“Wait!” Gerard squeaks, but it’s too late, the jeans are down around his knees, along with his underwear, and Frank jams his knee into Gerard’s thigh and pushes them the rest of the way down with his foot, and then there Gerard is, naked in the dark with Frank.

“I was going to keep my underwear on,” Gerard says belatedly, but Frank just wriggles his head back out of the blankets and shakes his head against Gerard’s arm.

“I don’t wanna sleep pressed up against your dirty drawers, man.”

“Well, now you’re gonna sleep pressed up against my dick.”

“Your dick is _clean_ ,” Frank says, turning over. His grip is so tight on the blankets that Gerard gets pulled up onto his side too, and then he has to figure out how to lie in a way that doesn’t leave his ass hanging out of bed, but also doesn’t make him do anything to _Frank’s_ ass. Frank sighs and says, “Are you being homophobic?”

“No!” Gerard stares incredulously in the direction of the back of Frank’s head.

“You’re being weird about us touching,” Frank sing-songs. “Seems pretty homophobic to me.”

“Homophobia would be not wanting to hug you, okay, there’s nothing homophobic about not wanting to accidentally fuck you in the ass.” Gerard puts his arm around Frank’s waist to prove his point. His skin is hot and bare. Gerard keeps his ass on the edge of the bed.

“Accidentally fucking someone in the ass is impossible,” Frank says knowingly. “That shit takes work. And you can’t even do anything to me from over there. You’re not even within range.”

“How do you know?” Gerard prods his side to make him squirm. “Maybe I have a secret giant penis.”

“Nobody has a secret giant penis,” Frank scoffs. “And you wear your pants so tight I can see how many kids you’re gonna have, motherfucker, there’s nothing secret about your big dick, okay.”

Gerard doesn’t know what to say to that, so there’s another interlude of silence. He can feel Frank’s stomach moving in and out slightly as he breathes, and his hand twitches involuntarily against Frank’s waist. Frank makes a little noise, half a giggle or something. Gerard whispers, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Frank murmurs. “Be sorry for being weird about fucking a guy’s ass.”

Gerard bangs his head sideways against the pillow with frustration. “Have you met me ever? It’s not because you’re a fucking guy!”

“Oh, I get it” Frank says in his pretend-hurt voice, which is totally different from his actually-hurt voice. “So it’s ‘cause it’s me.”

“It’s not – oh, for God’s sake.” Gerard shifts determinedly into the middle of the bed and uses his arm to yank Frank back against him at the same time. Frank makes a surprised squeak and goes completely still, pressed up against Gerard’s front from shoulders to heels and…everything in between. “There, my not-so-secretly big dick is within accidental fucking range of your ass. Are you happy now?”

“That’s – that’s a word, I guess,” Frank says. He sounds kind of weird. He’s breathing pretty fast. “Are you – Gerard?”

Gerard hadn’t even thought about it until this exact second, but here they are, naked and too hot in this scary-ass basement, and yeah, yeah he fucking is. “Do you want to?” he says, lips moving against Frank’s shoulder, hand moving on Frank’s stomach.

“No,” says Frank flatly, “I just wanted to know what your dick would feel like pressed against my ass for _science_.”

Gerard tells him to shut up, and Frank says, “You shut up,” and grabs Gerard’s hand and shoves it down over his dick, and that makes Frank moan and Gerard gasp and Gerard’s dick gets hard so fucking fast he feels dizzy from the loss of bloodflow to his head.

Or maybe he’s dizzy from the heat and from the fact that he can’t breathe properly because Frank has tipped his head back and Gerard’s mouth and nose are full of his hair and fuck, Frank was totally right, his hair smells fucking _gorgeous_ , and Frank moves their hands on his dick and moans again, and he doesn’t even seem to notice when the blankets shift a little and their shoulders are exposed to the warm, dark air.

“Oh, God,” Frank groans, really fucking loud but whatever, there’s nobody to hear them. “Oh, why is it so much better when it’s someone else?”

“I don’t know,” Gerard’s a little breathless, his hand moving on Frank’s dick and his hips moving against Frank’s ass, and everything’s sweaty and slippery and fuck, he doesn’t know how long it’s been for Frank but he knows how long it’s been for him, Jesus Christ. “Frank, Frank, can you, turn over, come on.”

Frank pushes into Gerard’s grip one more time, whining, then shoves the blanket down – the imminent threat of spiders momentarily forgotten, apparently – and flips over to face Gerard. There’s a confusing few moments of Frank’s hand skidding across his hip and Gerard’s fingers getting trapped between Frank’s thighs, and then Gerard gets his hand back around Frank’s cock and Frank sighs happily.

“Fuck,” Gerard bites out when Frank manages to find Gerard’s dick – seriously, how big can it be if it takes Frank that long, it’s not like it’s in a weird place or something – and starts jacking it. “Oh, fuck. Frank. Frank, clean-up’s gonna be a bitch.”

“ _Now_ you care about getting dirty, what the fuck.” Frank’s hand is a little rough on Gerard’s dick, perfect, so much better than his own hand in bathrooms and at rest stops and in the van when everyone else is asleep, whenever you can find five minutes to yourself on tour, fuck, it feels so good to be touched by someone else.

It feels so good to be touched by _Frank_ , who’s laughing in Gerard’s ear and pushing into his hand and jacking Gerard easy, with no weirdness at all. He makes delicious little noises and he shakes when Gerard squeezes, and Gerard doesn’t know how long it takes, the two of them together in the dark, time stretches out in the dark, doesn’t it, nothing really seems like it’s real, but he knows that when he comes Frank doesn’t stop touching him until he’s completely done, and he knows that when Frank comes, he says Gerard’s name.

Then, when they’ve been quiet for a minute, Frank says, “Your dick isn’t _that_ big.”

Gerard giggles and rolls his forehead against Frank’s. “We gotta work on your pillow talk, fuckface.”

“We gotta work on your ability to tell when I want a handjob,” Frank says fervently, and then he says in a different, soft voice, “Can I kiss you?” and he doesn’t wait for an answer before his mouth slides a little awkwardly over Gerard’s cheek and briefly up the slope of his nose, before Frank shifts down and finds his lips, kissing him sweet and warm and for real.

One of the blankets is sacrificed for clean-up, and then Frank fusses endlessly getting the remaining ones tucked back under all his body parts again.

Gerard says, “What if a spider got in while we were doing it?”

Frank freezes. “We need to work on _my_ pillow talk?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Gerard tucks himself along Frank’s side, and Frank snuggles in close.

“You’re naked,” he says happily. Then, “Next time Mikey gets laid, we’re taking the fucking guest room.”

“Hell yes,” Gerard agrees. “People with a chance at sex get the bed. New rule.”

“New rule,” Frank yawns, and then there’s nothing but his breathing and the odd noise from the boiler/spider/murderer, and then they’re both asleep.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic of] New Rule, by Bexless](https://archiveofourown.org/works/531980) by [shiningartifact](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiningartifact/pseuds/shiningartifact)




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